


A Bit of a Mother Hen

by SocksandFluff



Series: Midsomer Shorts [1]
Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: Ben Jones Era, Confused Ben Jones, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, John Barnaby Era, Loving Marriage, Married Couple, Maternal Sarah Barnaby, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Paternal John Barnaby, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 05:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocksandFluff/pseuds/SocksandFluff
Summary: Ben Jones seems to have come down with a cold - or so John had mused one night - so of course Sarah Barnaby decided to take the whole matter into her hands.John helps.





	A Bit of a Mother Hen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indigorose50](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/gifts).



It was absolutely pouring outside.

Rain fell down from the sky in sheets; coming in waves that were even visible down the street from the view DCI John Barnaby had peering out of his bedroom window. The sky was looming and dark on the horizon. The air was damp and cool.

Sykes, their dog, was tucked neatly under the sheets where John really wished he was right now.

John eyed the dog in the bed as he adjusted his tie. “Lucky.”

He only got a harrumph in response, Sykes’ head disappearing back under the covers.

Once neatened, John made his way downstairs and to the kitchen where delightful smells were tantalizingly wafting from.

“Sarah,” John called from the entryway to the kitchen, his voice cutting through his wife’s soft humming.

Mrs. Barnaby looked up from her busywork, screwing on the lid to a large soup thermos. _“Yes_?” she asked; her voice held that exacerbated tone that never held any real heat. The corners of her eyes were crinkled in a smile.

He smiled at her fondly then crossed the threshold to stand beside her and look down at what she was doing. “Ooo... Is that soup I see? Fresh and warm from the missus?”

He made to reach for it - and was intercepted immediately. She snatched it to her chest, holding it there firmly. “No. This one’s not for you.”

He pretended to look hurt. “Not for me? Surely you know what a cold and miserable day it is out there.”

She huffed, hiding a grin and gently bumping him aside with her hip so she could reach the bag she was going to slip the thermos into. “That’s _precisely_ why it’s not for you.”

John’s eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement as he watched her. “Pardon?”

“Well just _look_ at that weather,” she gestured to the window.

John glanced at it only, having already had a good long look at the gloomy day from upstairs.

“I’ve seen it already. So, what does this have to do with me not being allowed to sample that soup?” he pointed a finger at the offending bag. “If anything, it is only an even better reason for me to try it.”

He reached his hand slowly towards the bag, teasing her.

As expected, Sarah slapped his hand away, and pressed a different bag into his chest. “Because _this_ is yours.”

“What? Then whose-”

“Ben.”

He blinked. “Ben?” he turned as she moved across the kitchen untying her apron. “Why on earth did you make soup for _Jones?”_

“Really John,” she tisked. “You’re the one that said that he was ‘down with some terrible, _awful,_ cold.”

He rolled his eyes and put down his bag containing the precious warm meal, moving to stand next to his wife. “I recall saying that ‘I thought he looked a little peaky,’ and ‘I hope he isn’t coming down with something’, not, ‘I think he’s at death’s doorstep and we best intervene at our earliest convenience.”

“And,” she replied, completely ignoring his cheek, “He needs some good food if he’s feeling under the weather!” She added flatly looking out the window, “Especially if it’s like _this_ outside today.”

John sighed, “Yes but - from _our_ kitchen?”

She smiled incredulously and gently smacked his side with her apron. “Yes ‘our kitchen’. Really John, with how you sound you wouldn’t care hide or hair if that poor boy keeled over having not been taken care of.”

“He’s a grown man - and I am fairly sure I’ve never once seen him ‘keel over’ for any reason whatsoever.” He gently argued. “He doesn’t need ‘taking care of’.”

“Well he’s coming down with something, his gran is too old, and you know he lives alone John,” she protested, arms crossing. “And we never hear about his parents, do we? So who does he got?”

John shook his head, but couldn’t keep back the smile that was forcing its way out. He looped his arms around her waist and tucked her in close to his chest, kissing the top of her head. “You’re such a mother-hen.”

“Am not.”

“Yes you are,” he glanced at the two bags on the counter, lovingly packed, “You just made soup for my DS because of my telling you last night that he looked ‘a bit peaky’. That’s a bit mothering methinks.”

She just crossed her arms.

“But I love you for it,” he kissed the top of her head again before letting her go.

John crossed the kitchen again and picked up the bags. “So shall I play delivery-boy then? Make sure that Jones gets his home-made soup in-person?” he asked, moving the the entryway for his coat, knowing she’d follow. “Be his nursemaid?” He looped a scarf around his neck.

Sarah had this odd knowing smile, “Father-hen, maybe?”

“I beg your pardon?” He paused in his reach toward the coat rack again.

She pointed accusingly where his hand was. “Unless you’re really cold this morning and need _two_ scarves, or that other scarf is for...?”

“Shut it you,” he growled fondly, leaned forward, gently pecked her on the lips, and opened the door.

“Have a good day - and tell Ben that he can come to our place afterwards if his flat is too cold and lonely!” she called after him.

He was already halfway to his car, turning slightly to face his wife “Now _really_ Sarah _-,”_ he shouted back, “If you want to get adoption papers you should just _say_ so- _”_

John didn’t notice the figure standing right behind him.

“Adoption papers... Sir?”

John nearly jumped a mile.

“Is there something you and Sarah are going to announce soon?”

“Jones.” Good thing John had a good grip on the two bags in his arms, lest there would be soup all over the drive. “And nothing - Sarah was just being a bit ridiculous.”

The rain was loud enough that Sarah couldn’t clearly hear what was said, but she still shouted over the din, “Whatever he’s saying to you it’s not true!”

Jones laughed.

John shook his head, then got to the matter at hand. He eyed his DS up and down, noting that he still hadn’t shaken off whatever it was that had begun to ail him the day before, but also noticing the slightly grim expression.

He didn’t even have to ask what Jones’ sudden appearance that morning meant. “Ah. Where is it then?”

“Midsomer Verge. We’re to get there at our ‘earliest convenience’ apparently .”

“Hello Ben!” Sarah approached, umbrella in hand.

“Hello Mrs. Barnaby,” DS Jones replied, genuinely, his eyes crinkling softly in the corners.

Sarah’s lips pursed as she scrutinized John’s DS. He knew exactly what was coming; “You _do_ look peaky, and _pale._ Are you sure you’re feeling fit enough to -” she started.

“- Come on, Jones,” John cut her off, moving to Jones’ car, and opening the passenger’s side.

He caught a glimpse of Sarah who looked at him, then to Jones - who looked a little lost - and back at him.

John mouthed, ‘I got it,’ to his wife as Jones moved to walk around to the other side of his car.

“Jones?” he said, only after they had both sat down into the car, and the driver’s side door shut.

“Yessir?” his DS stopped, puzzled, glancing at Sarah who was standing just outside of John’s open passenger door.

“The missus here made you some soup for lunch.” John held up one of the bags as evidence.

Jones blinked, and then smiled incredulously at Sarah. “Thank you very much - you didn’t have-”

“Oh yes I _did_ \- and -”

“- _And,”_ John continued, “You’re expected at our home tonight - for supper.”

Jones’ eyebrows furrowed. “Pardon sir?”

Sarah beamed cheerfully at Ben.

“Is that cold clogging your ears? You’re invited to supper - and be glad that’s all it is. If Sarah had her way she’d be making up a bedroom for you.”

Jones laughed, so thoroughly confused that it seemed he didn’t know how to react. “What, why?”

Sarah leaned into the car before John could make any reply. “Because if you ever need a nice warm place to stay as a home-away-from-home, you’re always welcome.”

“Yes yes, alright. You’ve done your bit,” John grumbled.

Sarah leaned back out of the car - the clear victor.

“Happy?” he asked his wife.

“Perfectly,” she chirped with a real smile; then leaned down to peck him one last time. “Have a good day you two.”

“You too!” Jones replied.

John closed the door, and the car started up. He could see Jones’ still looked rather befuddled just by a quick side glance.

“Oh and John!” Sarah called, and she pointed to her neck as they started to pull out of the drive.

John waved back at her, “I got it. I got it. Keep your hair on.”

As they pulled away from the home and down the road, and only after a good few moments passed, Jones dared to speak.

“What was all that about?”

“Call it ‘parental coddling being directed at your person’,” John replied flatly.

“ _Me,_ sir?”

“Yes you.”

“But -”

John threw the scarf into Jones’ lap to keep him from asking further questions.

“Put that on - you look like you’re half freezing to death.  Are you sure you’ll be fine enough to work today?”

“Yes – I took plenty of medicine before coming.” Jones replied while putting on the scarf one-handed. “But-”

“Oh - and you have that extra sweater that you keep in the boot?”

“Yes I do… but-“

“Put that on too when we arrive at the scene. I can’t have you ‘keeling over’.”

“Okay, but-“

“Oh and Jones?”

Jones’ hesitated at the tone, “Yessir?”

“Not a word.”

Jones only laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> For IndigoRose50;  
> Who I made to watch Midsomer when they came to stay at my place, and also agrees there is a serious lack of Midsomer Fanficiton, and that John and Sarah Barnaby have the cutest relationship ever.
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> Also Jones is the best and needs to be protected at all costs.


End file.
